


Wildflowers

by catastrophicmeltdown



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Recovery, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-11
Updated: 2011-11-11
Packaged: 2017-11-06 09:13:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/417201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catastrophicmeltdown/pseuds/catastrophicmeltdown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Germany forces Italy to defect to the Allies. They later meet on the battlefield and Germany is injured protecting Italy. His injuries help reunite the long-lost lovers. </p><p>Follows the Germany = HRE theory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wildflowers

Italy carefully added the herbs to the boiling water, making sure they were in just the right proportions to make the perfect pasta. He checked the heat, adjusted the dial, and turned back to the kitchen table. War plans and letters from Germany and Japan were littered across its surface.

He sighed as he took in the mess on his table, sitting down and starting to go through the missives. He went over the supply accounts, making sure everything was up to snuff and accounted for. Then he went over the letters from Germany and their bosses. 

He marked his map and sighed. They were losing ground on the front again.

He got up and checked the pasta before turning back to the table. But before he could sit down again Germany burst through his back door. He quickly shut the door behind him, grabbing Feliciano and tugging him upstairs.

"Ve! Germany, what are you – "

He pulled Italy into the bedroom, pushing him toward the closet.

"Pack your things. You'll need enough clothes for a week, week and a half tops."

"But – what's going on, Germany?"

The other nation ignored him, reaching under Italy's bed to grab a suitcase and throwing it on top of the bed.

"We don't have time for this, you need to – "

"LUDWIG!"

He finally stopped whatever he was doing and faced Italy.

"What's going on, Ludwig?"

He stubbornly crossed his arms. "I'll tell you if you start packing first."

Feliciano sighed but started packing. It was the only way he'd get an explanation.

"You're going to America to discuss joining the Allies – "

He froze in his tracks.

"WHAT?! What do you mean 'joining the Allies'? I'm not leaving the Axis! I'm not leaving you and Kiku!" he yelled at Germany.

Germany grabbed the clothes from his hand and put them in the suitcase, disappearing into the closet for more. Italy grabbed Germany's shoulders and surprised the man by successfully forcing him to turn around.

"Were you listening? I'm not going to America!"

Germany grabbed Italy's hands and yanked them off, holding them behind his back. Red in the face he said, "Yes you are! We're losing this war, Italy. Both Kiku and I know it. But I'll be damned if you're dragged down with me."

Italy was shocked. Things had been going bad, yes, but he hadn't thought they were _this_ bad. Still, Germany was trying to make him leave, and that was just something he wouldn't allow to happen. He shivered a little. Bad things happened to those he cared about when they went off on their own during war.

Pushing aside the memories, he got in Germany's way again. He cursed the wall of eight centimeters that kept him from looking him in the eye properly.

"You can't make me leave, Germany. I chose to join on your side and – "

"I never even wanted you in this war!"

Italy looked at him, surprised and a little hurt as he watched Germany's shoulders slump.

"I knew something was off about my boss from the moment I met him. Still, I couldn't do anything about it; he was what the people wanted. I watched as he gained power and then declared war – and you were willingly allowing yourself to be dragged in! You _hate_ war; it reminds you of what happened to your grandfather. And yet here you were, fighting one for the sake of our friendship."

Italy blinked. He was sure he'd never told Ludwig about his fear of becoming like Grandpa Rome...

Germany clutched his head for a moment, and Italy grew concerned. "Ve~ Ludwig, are you alright?"

He grimaced and nodded. "I'm fine. I've just had these odd headaches for a while now."

He went back to packing, and after a moment Italy joined him. He was rewarded by seeing his friend's shoulders lose some of their tension.

"You want me to change sides."

"Yes."

"You want me to become your enemy so that I don't lose with you."

"Yes."

He looked away. "I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough."

Germany kept silent. Nothing he could say would make the situation any better. They closed the suitcase and rushed downstairs.

"Why now?"

Germany grabbed Feliciano's passport and shoved it into his chest pocket along with his ticket. "Because my boss is very distracted right now and it's the only time you'll be able to slip Italy out of this alliance safely. Please Feliciano, just go. It'll... it'll hurt less this way."

A few tears escaped from his eyes as he hugged Germany tightly. Then he turned and ran out of the house, never looking back.

Germany watched him go, a lone tear making its way down his cheek. _'I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough to protect you, Feliciano.'_

Germany quietly walked over to the stove and took off the pasta.

* * *

_He looked down when he heard a groan. Holy Rome's eyes fluttered open._

_"Oh, you're awake! I was so worried when you hit your head and didn't get back up."_

_He leaned over him, making sure he was really all right. "You should watch where you're going more carefully."_

_He giggled as a red blush spread across his friend's cheeks. He offered a hand when he saw him try to get up. The deepening blush on Holy Rome's face as he accepted his aid only caused him to giggle more._

_When Holy Rome was back on his feet he retrieved the basket, walking back up the path toward Mr. Austria's house. "Hurry, or we'll be late!"_

_Italia laughed and started running. Holy Rome stood surprised for a moment before laughing and sprinting to catch up with little Italia._

_He finally did a few yards from the back door. With a touch on the shoulder and an exclamation of "Catch me!" the game was reversed. Italia laid the basket on the steps and ran after Holy Rome, their carefree laughter dancing on the breeze._

_They didn't notice Hungary watch them for a while before picking up the basket and starting the cooking. They were lost in a field of laughter and wildflowers._

* * *

Feliciano woke to a wet pillow and chill morning air. For a moment he laid there and savored the memory his dreams had gifted him.

Over a hundred years later and he still couldn't let him go.

He sat up and wiped away some of the tears. So many years...

He turned when he heard his tent flap open. One of his men poked his head in. "Sir, it's almost dawn. Preparations for the attack are nearly complete."

"I'll be out soon."

The man nodded and left, tent flap swinging in the breeze behind him. He sighed and left the bed, pulling out a clean uniform.

He hadn't let go of Holy Rome, and he didn't think he would ever stop haunting his dreams. So why did he also dream of a green uniform and strong arms holding him while he slept?

* * *

_He groaned as he regained consciousness. His head hurt terribly._

_He heard a giggle, and realized that he wasn't alone. He opened his eyes and was met with the smiling face of his friend._

_"Oh, you're awake! I was so worried when you hit your head and didn't get back up."_

_She leaned in closer, and he could feel his cheeks begin to heat up. "You should watch where you're going more carefully."_

_He felt his cheeks flame. He'd been watching Italia run among the bushes when he should have been watching where he was walking._

_Italia offered a hand and he took it, feeling his cheeks blush even more. He watched as she picked up her basket and turned down the path to Mr. Austria's house._

_"Hurry, or we'll be late!"_

_He stood surprised for a moment as she bolted up the path. He shook himself and ran after her, their laughter joining together on the breeze._

_He finally caught up to her a little before they reached the back door. He touched her shoulder and yelled "Catch me!" as he ran back down the path to the field._

_He heard her laugh as she turned and ran after him. The afternoon was filled with the smell of wildflowers and children's laughter._

* * *

Germany woke with a small smile on his face. The dream was fading rapidly, details slipping through his fingers, but he remembered mahogany hair and a green dress surrounded by wildflowers.

He got out of his cot and pulled on his uniform. "Sir?" he heard from out side his room, "We've had reports of Allied movement."

He quickly opened his door, pulling on his jacket on the way. "Was?"

The lieutenant nodded sharply as he stood at attention. "The Allies are closing in on us as we speak, sir. Their obvious aim is this town. We will be unable to move out in time."

"How many?"

"Enough, sir."

Germany ran a hand through his hair. "Scheiße."

The lieutenant stood quietly, awaiting his CO's orders. Germany paced his small room as he thought.

This was war. His decision would mean either losing his entire company or damning only some to face their deaths. There was only one choice. This post wasn't important enough to gamble all of his men.

He always hated giving these orders.

He turned and faced the lieutenant directly. "Move out our more experienced troops. Leave the others to defend the post."

"Will I send someone to load your things?"

"Nein. I will stay and fight with my men."

"But sir – !"

"I will stay!"

The lieutenant sharply closed his mouth and nodded, turning and disappearing down the hallway.

Ludwig sighed and rubbed his eyes. He wouldn't leave his men to fight the nations he could feel hovering just on the edge of his awareness. Without him his troops would all die. With him the others will focus on him, and his troops might stand a chance.

He sat down and pulled out his guns. They needed to be in top condition today.

* * *

Italy ran through the streets, firing at anything in a German uniform. The sooner this battle was over, the sooner they would reach the end of the war. That's what he told himself, anyway. The words got stale after so many battles, but they were the only thing that kept him firing.

The dust from the fallen buildings choked him a bit and made his eyes water, and his equipment was heavy. The gun in his hands felt all _wrong_ , but Italy kept on going. The sooner all of this was over, the sooner he could see Ludwig again.

He ducked when he heard gunshots precariously close to his position. He crawled, keeping a hand on his gun, until the sounds of gunfire had faded slightly. He carefully stood up, remembering his training from both Germany and the Allies.

The side street was deserted, the battle having moved to the main street where there was more maneuvering room. He bent over and rested for a few minutes, tying to catch his breath.

He heard the scuttle of rubble, and immediately swung his gun up to met the source of the sound. His eyes widened.

"G-Germany?"

Germany stood amid the wreckage of the town, surprise visible on his face and rifle securely clutched in his hand. He was ruffled and dirty, but he was _there_.

"I-Italien?"

Italy's gun dropped to his side, the other arm reaching for him as he moved forward.

But Germany's gaze focused on something to his left, his eyes going wide with panic and fear. Italy tensed, then turned his gaze. His eyes were met with the sight of a gun barrel pointing at his head from a nearby alleyway.

The gunman tensed, and Germany darted forward. "NO!"

He pushed Italy out of the way as a loud shot echoed down the suddenly quiet street. Germany pulled out his handgun, shooting the man in the head. He watched impassively as he fell into a heap on the ground.

_'Did I really have to shoot him? He was only following orders...'_

He turned and saw Feliciano, and his heart skipped. Or maybe that was from the hole leaking blood out of his chest.

_'Yes. Yes I did.'_

He thought he saw America and England standing somewhere behind Italy before black consumed him and he knew no more.

* * *

Italy screamed and ran to Germany's side as he collapsed, his head hitting a large piece of concrete and leaving a bloody stain. He flipped him over, immediately putting pressure on the gunshot wound as he tried to rip off a bandage to help stop the bleeding.

"Italy."

He looked up and had gauze and medical tape shoved in his face. "Work quickly, he's losing blood."

Italy immediately got to work, tearing off Germany's jacket and tank top before pressing down on the gauze and securing it.

America bent down and picked him up carefully. "C'mon, he needs a medic."

They made it back to the Allies' camp in record time, and Alfred handed Germany off to the medics as the others sat and waited.

"Why?" France asked as soon as he joined them.

Alfred rubbed his eyes and said, "The only reason he's in there right now is because he pushed Italy out of the way and took his bullet instead. It would've been a head shot."

The others remained silent as they realized just how far Germany was willing to go to keep Italy safe. Feliciano just sat quietly in his chair, tears streaming in silent rivers down his cheeks.

_'Please, I don't want to lose someone I love again...'_

* * *

_Green dress auburn hair that curl it's_ **her**...

_He was running after a little girl, but she was crying, why was she crying?..._

_He's holding a brush awkwardly in his hand, trying to paint why can't he get it right "Here, like this"..._

_You run when I chase you but chase me when I run why would you do that..._

_Afternoons in the field, making meals in the kitchen, a dance around the parlour. Breakfast in bed, helping herhimherHIM with the cleaning..._

_"Don't go!"... "Here, take this to remember me by..."_

_"What do your people do?"... "Kiss, I think"_

_And lips meet and it's sweet and innocent and full of love_

_But then there's older Italy in the kitchen, making pasta and a mess and looking adorable with flour on his cheek..._

_Italy jumping in his bed, afraid of the storm, afraid he's going to leave him, afraid that he'll wake up cold in the morning..._

_Italy, stripping in public, Italy, taking a siesta, Italy, laughing and smiling and trying to coax the same out of him..._

_He did it once, back when they were young and the smell of wildflowers suffused the air, and oh why had he ever forgotten..._

_But the war and his lands he lost himself... he hadn't kept his promise..._

_But he had, he'd come back, and he would never let go this time..._

_Italia Chibitalia Italien Feliciano mine chose to be mine..._

_Holy Roma Ludwig Holy Roman Empire Germany his always his..._

_I've loved you since the 900's..._

_I'll never love anyone more than you!..._

__**I remember...**

* * *

He gasped and jerked awake. Mildly disoriented, he glanced around the room. His hand flew to a gun that wasn't there when he saw the Allies standing in the room.

Alfred held up his hands to placate the wary German. "Relax, dude. We're not gonna try anything."

German didn't relax. Alfred just sighed and sat in a chair.

"What happened? I remember being shot, but after that..."

"You've been out for over a month. You hit your head pretty hard when you collapsed, and apparently concussions plus gunshot wound equals very bad."

"What happened while I was unconscious?"

Alfred shifted a bit uncomfortably in his seat. "Urm, well, you see – "

"Oh, shut up you idiot." Arthur turned and looked him in the eye. "You lost. More land was taken by us and then Hitler committed suicide. The treaty was signed a few days later."

Germany felt almost all the tension leave his body. "Thank God."

He knew he'd surprised them with his reaction, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

He leaned back into the bed, but felt like something was off. He took another look around and noticed that Italy wasn't there.

"Where's Italy?"

Alfred smiled slightly as he turned to the others. "See, I told you he'd want to see him."

Arthur grumbled something unintelligible before saying, "At least we can trust him. I'm sure of that much."

He pushed the Russia and France aside, revealing another hospital bed. Germany felt his breath catch.

"Is he...?"

Arthur smiled. "No, he's perfectly fine. He insisted on staying with you this whole time. He called us when you started getting restless, and we convinced him to catch up on some sleep while we waited for you to finally wake up."

Germany took a good look; it had been so long since he had last been able to see Feliciano like this. He was peaceful – maybe even angelic – when sleeping. With his small smile and untamed curl, he looked adorable. He was glad he had been able to stay that way.

He looked up at them, gratitude shining clear in his eyes. "Thank you."

France raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

Germany smiled a little. "For taking care of him. For not crushing him when I sent him to you. For letting me live."

Arthur shooed everyone out. "Don't thank us. Feliciano is the one that convinced us." 

He stopped at the door and turned to face Germany. "You know he loves you, right?"

Germany smiled. It was small, but definitely real. "I've known for centuries."

England looked confused for a moment before his face cleared and a huge smile broke out. "I'll tell everyone the good news."

He quietly shut the door behind him. Germany groaned quietly and tried to get up, but his efforts only sent a pan that had been on the table to the floor with a clatter.

Italy jerked up at the loud noise. "Ve, what happened?"

He turned toward Germany and froze for a second, then launched himself out of his bed and into Germany's arms. Being careful with the still-healing wounds, he hugged Germany tightly and buried his face into the taller man's neck.

Ludwig felt the tears flowing down his neck and rubbed Feliciano's back comfortingly. "It's alright. I'm here, and the war is over." He gently pulled back and wiped the tears off of Italy's face.

"There's no need to cry, mein kätzchen."

Italy's breath hitched and he turned questioning eyes on him; the only one who had ever called him that had been Holy Rome. But then realization came over his face as he stroked the pink line where the piece of cement had broken the skin.

Tears threatened to overflow again as he asked, "Really?"

Germany nodded, smiling, and suddenly found himself with an armful of Italian passionately kissing the sense out of him.

"Ti amo ti amo ti amo ti amo," he repeated against his lips.

"I know. Ever since the 900's, right?" he teased.

Italy blushed, and Germany pulled him down to lay next to him on the bed. They burrowed into each other's warmth and comfort.

"Ich liebe dich auch, mein kätzchen."

He'd never really noticed before, but Feliciano smelled just like wildflowers.


End file.
